


Sometimes You Have To Lose To Win

by Wetislandinthenorthatlantic



Series: Tumblr Prompts [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Mollcroft, Mycroft Feels, Needles, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Truth Serum, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2014-07-26
Packaged: 2018-02-10 13:03:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2026098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wetislandinthenorthatlantic/pseuds/Wetislandinthenorthatlantic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Mycroft has been injected with Sodium Pentothal." Sherlock looked at Molly pleadingly. Although he was very looking forward to the show beginning.</p><p>"Sherlock you have a degree in chemistry." Molly was shaking her head, "You know as well as I do the effects just have to wear off. There is nothing we can do."</p><p>Molly approached Mycroft tentatively. She laid her hand gently on his back. "Hey Mycroft are you okay?'</p><p>"Why would I not be okay? At least all the shouting has .... " As Mycroft sat up his gaze fell on Molly "...stopped." An oddly serine look appeared on Mycroft's face. This was not good -- Mycroft never looked serine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Molly's Lab

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the characters.
> 
> This work is purely for entertainment.
> 
> I looked up truth serum on the web but am neither a doctor nor a spy so have no first hand knowledge if this part of my story is accurate.
> 
> This was from a Tumblr prompt: OTP AU:
> 
> "Person A accidentally took sodium pentothal and embarrasses themselves trying their hardest not to confess their love to person B"
> 
> Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Mycroft has been injected with Sodium Pentothal." Sherlock looked at Molly pleadingly.
> 
> "Sherlock you have a degree in chemistry." Molly was shaking her head, "You know as well as I do the effects just have to wear off. There is nothing we can do."
> 
> Molly approached Mycroft tentatively. She laid her hand gently on his back. "Hey Mycroft are you okay?'
> 
> "And why would I not be okay? At least all the shouting has .... " As Mycroft sat up his gaze fell on Molly "...stopped." An oddly serene look appeared on Mycroft's face. This was not good -- Mycroft never looked serene.

  
Sherlock walked unannounced into Molly's lab and Mycroft drifted in along behind. 

  
"Molly! I need your help! Now! The dead can wait!" Sherlock shouted in an impatient voice. "MOLLY!"  
Sherlock exasperated, grabbed Mycroft by the arm and pulled him back from a lab experiment he was about to ruin. "Just sit here and don't touch anything." Sherlock pushed The British Government unceremoniously down onto a lab stool.

"Ouch! You hurt me! You always hurt me Sherlock," Mycroft had a frown on his face. He was wearing his usual expensive three-piece suit and trench coat, but it was quite obvious that there was something wrong with Mycroft Holmes today -- something very wrong. "And you never say you are sorry. Not even when Mummy tells you to do so." Mycroft crossed his arms and let out a 'humph.'

"Oh god. Here we go again. MOLLY!" Sherlock was trying to decide if he could leave his brother unattended to go search for Molly.  
"You are shouting. Why are you shouting?" Mycroft was now bent over covering his ears.

Just as Sherlock took another deep breath to shout again Molly appeared. She was taking blood stained gloves off as she went to the sink to wash her hands. "You can stop shouting. I'm right here. Just had to finish up." Molly's gaze fell to Mycroft. "Oh my goodness! What's the matter with him?"

Mycroft was still doubled over with his hands on his ears.

"Mycroft has been injected with Sodium Pentothal." Sherlock looked at Molly pleadingly. Although secretly he couldn't wait for the show to begin.

"Sherlock you have a degree in chemistry." Molly was shaking her head, "You know as well as I do the effects just have to wear off. There is nothing we can do."  
Molly approached Mycroft tentatively. She laid her hand gently on his back. "Hey Mycroft are you okay?"

"Why would I not be okay? At least all the shouting has .... " As Mycroft sat up his gaze fell on Molly "...stopped." An oddly serene look appeared on Mycroft's face. This was not good -- Mycroft never looked serene.

"Tell me. Mycroft, how do you feel?" Molly with a very concerned look on her face put her hand on Mycroft's forehead. Suddenly Mycroft's face flushed and he began breathing fast.

"How do I feel? ...  I ache for you. ... I yearn for you." Mycroft's voice was soft as he slowly reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind Molly's ear, "I long for you."

"What the ... ? Ache for her ...?" Sherlock was frowning at his brother.  


Molly just stood blinking at Mycroft while her mind reeled. _Was he talking about her? Mycroft really couldn't be talking about her -- could he?_  
  
Mycroft gently reached up and tentatively touched Molly's face with his fingertips. "You are even more beautiful in person than in my dream last night." Mycroft was smiling at Molly.  
  
Molly was shocked at how handsome Mycroft was when he smiled. Sherlock's brother had been coming to her lab for four years and this was the first time Molly had ever seen him really smile.  
  
"What? You were dreaming about Molly last night?" Sherlock scoffed.  
  
Mycroft turned his attention to Sherlock. "Must you start every sentence with "What." It insinuates you have gone deaf." His head swivelled back to Molly and he sighed contentedly.  
  
"Yes. Last night was one on my favourites." Mycroft had a faraway look in his eyes.  
  
"One of your favourites ... You have had other dreams about me?" Molly swallowed hard.  
Knowing that Mycroft Holmes was dreaming about her was enough to terrify and thrill her in equal parts. "Uh. What were we doing in the dream? The one last night. Your favourite." Molly stammered.  
  
Sherlock was pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Why are you encouraging him?! Stop talking to him when he is in this condition. He obviously doesn't know what he is saying. Dreaming about you," Sherlock rolled his eyes. "He probably dreamt you were watching him organise his pens."  
  
Molly shot a dagger filled look at Sherlock. Mycroft, ignored Sherlock and gently reached up and turned Molly's head so their eyes met.  
  
"No pens Sherlock. In my dream this glorious woman and I are in Switzerland snuggled up in a chalet while a fierce blizzard rages outside." Mycroft was looking deep into Molly's eyes.  
  
Molly felt hypnotised by Mycroft's gaze. She can't help herself, with the sound of blood pounding in her ears she heard herself ask, "Then what happened?"  
  
"Oh my God Molly! Do you really have to ask -- this is straight out of one of the Mills and Boone books Anthea keeps hidden in her desk. You shag like bunnies in front of the fire on a bearskin rug!" Sherlock throws up his hands in frustration.  
  
"Wrong Sherlock." Mycroft's voice was low and sensuous making all the hairs on Molly's neck stand up. "I make love to Molly as sweetly and as gently as I possibly can because she had just told me she is carrying our first child. The joyous news makes me the happiest man alive."

Molly thought she saw tears in the corners of his eyes as Mycroft stood up. Without warning Mycroft pulled Molly into a passionate kiss that ignited a fire between her legs."

For a good 30 seconds Sherlock was frozen -- unable to grasp the reality of his brother and his pathologist snogging on a Wednesday afternoon right in front of him.

Suddenly a deafening warning bell sounded in Sherlock's brain waking him out of his trance. He had better put a stop to this right now before Mycoft's hand moves any closer to Molly's .... 

"NOOOOOOO!" Sherlock shouts as he pulls Mycroft off Molly. "We are leaving!" Sherlock has his hand around Mycroft's wrist as he drags him away.

"You were right about the bearskin rug though Sherlock." Mycroft stumbling along gives Sherlock a lopsided smile.  
  
"Stop talking Mycroft!" shouts Sherlock through gritted teeth as the younger brother manhandles the older down the hospital corridor.

For the next 10 minutes Molly stood starting at the lab door trying to catch her breath wondering what in the world had just happened. 


	2. Molly's Flat

"You could have warned me!" Sherlock was staring out of the car window scarcely being able to hide his fury.

"I did! I clearly said that you were not going to like what was going to happen. You just ignored it." Mycroft retorted loudly.

"I thought that meant that you were going to insult her dress sense so much that she was going to deny me access to her lab -- until I grovelled and begged." Sherlock sighed.

"Most of the time when I think about Molly she doesn't have her clothes on. And when I see her with clothes on I am usually imagining taking them off.  In my mind her clothes look perfectly fine in a pile on the floor. Or sometimes in a trail across the floor. Yes, a trail of Molly's clothes ... that's always nice." Mycroft had a small smile on his face as his head lolled against the car headrest. "Did you say she likes begging and grovelling?"

Sherlock closed his eyes, "I said stop talking." he said through gritted teeth. "I'm taking you back to Baker Street so you can sleep this off. We need a plan to get you out of this mess."

  
******  
  
Molly was curled up on the couch in her pyjamas with a cup of coca. There was nothing on TV and she was just about to go to bed when she heard a knock on her door. It sounded like Sherlock's knock.

It's about time she thought. Sherlock had answered none of the dozen phone calls or texts since the curious visit to her lab this afternoon. As for Mycroft, Molly had decided not to call him. He was probably so mortified by what he had said that he would rather have Molly deported than speak to her.  
  
Opening the door Molly was startled to see Mycroft standing there holding a very expensive bouquet of flowers. He was looking nervous. Very nervous.  
  
"Hi Mycroft. Come on in." Molly smiled and stepped back to let him in.  
  
"Um. These are for you." Mycroft thrust the flowers unceremoniously at Molly. He was looking everywhere but at her.  
Molly smiled and took the flowers. She felt sorry for him. It was obvious he was very uncomfortable being here. "Thank you. They are just lovely. Let me go put them in some water. Take your coat off and have a seat. Molly motioned to the couch. "I'll be right back."  
  
Molly ducked into the kitchen to sort of the flowers. When she came back into the living room Mycroft with his Ice Man mask back on was perched on the edge of her couch.  
  
Molly returned to her spot in the corner of the couch, drew her knees up to her chest and curled into a little ball.  
  
"So. Here you are."  
  
"Yes. I here am."  
  
"Are you feeling better?" There was genuine concern in Molly's voice.  
  
"If you are asking if the effects of the Sodium Pentothal have worn off ... yes they have."  
  
"Oh. Good." Molly was a bit shocked at how unconvincing this sounded which caused her to blush.  
  
This made Mycroft smirk -- just a little bit -- but he still didn't say anything.  
  
"Look Mycroft. It's okay. What happened in the lab. You can't be held responsible. All those things you said today ... it was the Sodium Pentothal ... We don't ever have to mention it again. It's fine. I accept your apology." Molly, trying to fill the uncomfortable silence, was beginning to ramble.  
  
"I did not come here to apologise." Mycroft stated simply as he was staring down at his clasped hands.  
  
"What?" Out of the clear blue you stick your tongue down my throat without any warning and you are aren't going to apologise? Why not?" Molly was on the verge of shouting.  
  
"Because I'm not sorry." Mycroft slowly raised his head and he finally looked directly at Molly.

"Oh." Molly gasped as she found Mycroft’s eyes were still filled with desire and longing. And this time there was no drug to blame it on. " _Oh!_ "  



	3. Switzerland

Three Months Later ....

Mycroft in a grey morning suit was facing forward in the small village church. Sherlock stood beside him facing the two dozen people gathered. Sherlock was giving Mycroft a running commentary -- trying to amuse Mycroft and make him less nervous. 

Between snarky comments about their mothers’ friends Sherlock asked, " Have you ever told her?" 

"No," Mycroft held back a smile. 

"Are you ever going to?"

"Perhaps if we ever find ourselves in Switzerland," Mycroft was nervous and it was oh-so-difficult not to giggle.

Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“If you wish to start your married life under false pretences far be it from me to stop you. But mark my word brother mine. One boring Christmas Dinner I’m going to let your cat out of the bag!”

“Go ahead. She is going to be just as cross with you as she is with me. In many ways I was the innocent victim. And you could hardly call it false pretences – there is nothing false about what happened. It was the truth and the whole truth. You are just a sore winner.”

“You are a loser,” grinned Sherlock.

“Yes I am. And a very happy one thank you very much,” Mycroft sighed with a smile on his face. 

As if on cue the music started to play. Out of the corner of his eye Mycroft saw a look of enchantment fill Sherlock’s face.

"Your bride is breath taking." Sherlock whispered. 

****

The light from the fire made dancing shadows on the walls. Outside a blizzard was raging but neither Molly or Mycroft much cared. Molly's breathing was still a bit elevated as she snuggled into the crook of Mycroft's arm. 

"That was truly beautiful. Thank you." Molly kissed Mycroft's chest. 

"I’m so happy,” Mycroft purred.

"You are also psychic. The dream you told me about has come true. Did you know it was exactly one year ago today that Sherlock brought you into my lab?"

Mycroft looked genuinely surprised. "Really?" 

"Yes. Really." 

Mycroft looked thoughtful as he stroked Molly's back. "Molly. You have never asked me about the Sodium Pentothal. How I came to be injected with it." 

“No. I figured it was top secret and it you told me you would have to kill me." Molly was lazily drawing circles in Mycroft’s chest hair. 

"Umm. No. Not like that at all."

"Well then tell me. Who injected you with the truth serum?"

"Sherlock." 

Molly pushed herself up so she was looking directly into Mycroft’s face. “Sherlock?” she squinted at Mycroft. “Sherlock injected you with truth serum?” You better start at the beginning.”


	4. Why It Happened

One Year Ago ....

“Welcome to our annual Operation Tournament,” Sherlock was reading from a set of prepared notes. He lost last year so was the MC for this year’s tournament. Mycroft waved his hand in a circle to indicate to Sherlock to get on with it. 

“As the loser of last year’s tournament and in accordance with the 1987 Rules, Version 3, Amendment B, I have devised the following for the loser of this year’s event.“

“I have acquired a syringe of Sodium Pentothal and four ping pong balls. Two names will be provided by me. Two names will be provided by you. One name will be chosen. The loser will then, later today, face the chosen name to tell him or her exactly what the loser thinks about him or her.” Sherlock finished with a very smug look on his face. 

“Are you sure you can deal with such high stakes Sherlock?” Mycroft was giving Sherlock a sideways look. 

“I could say the same brother mine.” 

A smirk slid across Mycroft's face. He picked up the marker and a ping pong ball. "John" his eyes flicked up as he put it in the velvet bag. Mycroft noted that Sherlock’s breathing rate had increased. The marker was handed to Sherlock. 

"Lestrade" Sherlock put this ball in the bag as Mycroft clenched his jaw. 

"Molly," Mycroft held back a chuckle. 

"Anthea," Sherlock flashed a wicked grin as Mycroft rolled his eyes. 

Mrs Hudson was called to choose a ball from the bag -- she chose Molly. 

Seeing the name Mycroft once again smirked. "Such high stakes. Sherlock. Bet you would have been happier with streaking through Trafalgar Square like last year. 

Sherlock clenched his jaw as he stared at Mycroft. "Hardly." She knows what I think. I tell her how much she annoys me all the time." 

Mycroft raised his eyebrows, "If you say so Sherlock."

“And you? What do you think of dear Miss Hooper brother?” snarled Sherlock. 

“Only if I lose you will find out.” Mycroft stuck his nose in the air and looked down it at Sherlock. 

"Very ominous. Very ominous indeed. Now stop delaying Mycroft. Let’s play.”

***  
Sherlock was grinning like a Cheshire Cat. “You really weren’t playing well today Mycroft. Your mind was obviously elsewhere.” 

“Have you ever seen the news? I am a busy man Sherlock.” 

Mycroft looked pensive as he rolled up his sleeve to expose his vein. Sherlock readied the needle with the expertise of a phlebotomist . “You okay Mycroft? Perhaps you are worried that a few home truths about Molly’s sense of style will close her lab to us once and for all?” 

“Yes. Something like that,” Mycroft winced at the injections sting. "You are not going to like what's about to happen Sherlock. It's possible that your whole world is about to change."

"Come on. Get your coat on. Let's get this over with. Don't be such a drama queen. You will insult her. I'll have to buy coffee for the next three weeks, maybe a portion of chips, flash her my gorgeous smile and I'll have access to her lab again in no time." 

Sherlock was already on his way out the door leaving Mycroft to follow slowly. The drug wasn't affecting him yet, but the magnitude of what he was about to do was. 

***  
“Let me get this straight." Molly and Mycroft were in the process of folding up the blanket and tidying up the chalet's living room. The fire was now dying out and both of them were ready to go to bed.

“You and Sherlock were having the final of the annual Operation Tournament. And the loser was going to be injected with truth serum. Said loser would then tell one of his innocent and unsuspecting friends exactly what he thought of him or her. And you think this is a normal and acceptable practice for grown men?"

"Ummm" Mycroft hesitated. "I do not think the term normal has ever been applied to either my brother or to me."

"Fair point. Still, I have ended up falling in love, marrying and am now carrying your child because you lost a game of Operation." Molly was fluffing and tossing the throw cushions back onto the couch.

"Three games -- technically I lost three games." Mycroft explained as he put the blanket across the back of the couch and adjusted it. “And for the record I did lose them on purpose.”

"Just think, I could be standing here carrying Sherlock's baby if you hadn't been so good at losing," Molly was stroking her still very flat tummy with a playful smile on her face. "Are there any other annual tournaments I should be aware of?"

Mycroft's jaw clinched and he was a bit too quiet for a bit too long. Molly began to get worried. "Yes." he finally answered as he pulled her into a hug, "But we can go over them once you aren't pregnant. You will want to have a stiff drink while we are having that discussion."

Molly rolled her eyes and shook her head as she smiled. Secretly it was the answer she had expected – and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!  
> Sorry some of the chapters are short ... I know I could have put this all into one chapter but I am testing out how to post multiple chapters at one time on AO3.


End file.
